


It

by goodloser



Series: Dojima Family Game Night [2]
Category: Persona 4
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Twins, Comedy, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Gen, Muteness, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:51:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2144574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodloser/pseuds/goodloser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A game of Tag goes awry, and it's not Yuu's fault, he swears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It

“Tag” always became much more than a simple, mindless game when Yuu was involved, and everyone currently in the Dojima living room had learnt this long ago.

It wasn’t that he was tall, or that his focused face was imposing, or even that he was fast. It wasn’t on purpose either – things just got _difficult_ when he insisted on bringing his katana.

So when Chie _and_ Yukiko both ran straight into Yuu, and the sword _somehow_ got launched, spun through the air, finally gave Yosuke the haircut he deserves, and planted itself slap-bang in the middle of the sofa, everyone knew who to blame.

“Perhaps it was a bad idea to play this game indoors,” Souji mused, and his twin shot him particularly sharp daggers. But it wasn’t like Yuu was angry, just especially adept at facial expression, since his speech was so _limited_.

Yosuke, on the other hand, was visibly scared, _his_ face scrunched up almost as if he was in actual pain. “Dude, what are we gonna do? Your old man isn’t gonna like this…”

Considering how suspicious Dojima was of him and Yuu even being in the same _room_ together, he was no stranger to the cop’s short temper.

“Maybe he won’t notice?” Yukiko sounded hopeful.

Yuu was silent for now, (for _ever_ , more like) and instead opted to approach the couch and yank out the katana with both hands. It slid out from between the foam heavily, almost like it was stuck. And then he turned, tucking it under his arm, (its tip scraped against the backrest, sending irritating vibrations along the metal. He was sensitive to that kinda stuff.) and signed _He always does._


End file.
